


"Daddy?"

by RGmolpus



Series: Innocent Bystanders [3]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Gen, Obstetrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-01-11 00:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RGmolpus/pseuds/RGmolpus
Summary: Set during Winterfair, Miles takes Taura to see Hugh Canaba.(Taura is about 23-24 at this time. She was 15 when rescued, which was 8 years ago.)5/28/19 Done.





	1. A Pleasant Day at Work

**Author's Note:**

> I'm adding to this almost every day, with a log of when I add to the text.  
> I'm logging my additions as they happen  
> 4/11/19 11:00 AM - Canaba serves coffee  
> 4/11/10 11:14 PM - more confession between Canaba and Taura.  
> 4/13/2019 7:25 PM - Miles leaves the room.  
> 4/14/2019 10:53 PM - Taura has some news for Canaba.  
> 4/19/2019 3:00 PM - The Past....  
> 4/21/2019 10:03 AM - Planning an escape, with petting....  
> 4/21/2019 - A conversation overheard.  
> 4/23/2019 8:51 PM - More conversation, uneaten dinner.  
> 5/9/19 6:08 AM - The meat of the matter!  
> 5/15/19 - Fallout and process.  
> 5/21/2019 11:03 PM - Taura remembers.  
> 

Doctor Vaughn Weddell is at his happiest. He's told his Secretary to refuse any visitors, he's in a room full of empty marker boards; there's a percolator full of Kenyan coffee at work, and he's got a bottle of brandy to add a splash of extra umph! to his cup. He's been distracted by irrelevancies for three weeks that have prevented him from planning a delicate bio-energy reaction chain, a new biozome load for the Vorkosigan Wonderbugs (such a brilliant idea! Enrique Borgos is such a grand person to chat with - ), and now he's got until midnight by himself and a stick of chalk.

He was halfway thru a stick of colored chalk (red for energy flows, Green for the entropy chain, blue for notes - everything photographed every fifteen seconds to record everything he did) when a knock on the door (Forbidden! Achtung! Forbidden!) caused him to break the chalk and his line of thought. He thundered a habitual line of oaths and epithets, spinning to face the door with eyes blazing and a hand grasping a chair back in readiness - 

Ohm drat, around the door poked the face of his 'Protector', Miles Vorkosigan/Admiral Naismith. Whenever he appeared, his days were positively disrupted for weeks. And he had the reaction chain so solid in his head, just a few hours to get it out and recorded! Arch!

"Dr. Weddell? Sorry to disturb you, but there's someone who'd like to see you."

Naismith opened the door, and...

"Daddy?"

In the doorway was his, well, Daughter, Taura. He'd not seen her since he extracted the gene samples he'd hidden in her gastrocnemius muscle; so far away in time and space; she'd not wanted to see him for the rest of the voyage to his destination at Komarr.

All that ended as he was suddenly hugging her; his face buried in her shoulder; hers impressed on his head; arms wrapped around in ferocious strength. No words, only sounds, with tears, many tears.

Miles hadn't known what to expect when he suggested to Taura that she might visit Dr. Cabana; He regretted having introduced Elena Visconti to Bothari - a regret that was carved in his bones. Taura had thought for a moment, then agreed; she had asked that Roic not escort them to Canaba's lab, biting her lip in the asking.

Miles leaned on the table, watching with a broad smile as Canaba and Taura hugged and cried. When they'd last departed; neither had been happy; Canaba being ashamed of his part in creating her; Taura upset in learning the terms of her life. Taura had sworn many times she didn't want to know about her remaining 'Parent'; Canaba (when it came to Taura, Miles always thought of Weddell as Canaba) avoided asking Miles about her in the few times they met. Simon had been happier with a firm barrier between Canaba and his past; Weddell was who he had become, and should remain, in Simon's eyes.

Taura finally let a gap grow between the two of them; to look at his face; he looked up at her, eyes glinting and bright with tears; they sneezed almost in unison; laughing at the comedy.

"They've been feeding you right; Girl" said Weddell; smiling at her. "Your stomach and insides have to be working right... That's a big part of what I did in - making you." His voice cracked with his words.

"Oh, Daddy - I can call you Daddy, Please? Back in the Creche we had our nannies, but -" Taura stopped with a confused and concerned look on her face. "We didn't know what parents were..."

"Of course you can, my little girl - or, now, my very grown up and full size girl! Dr. Maddell set your possible body size; do you remember him? Thin, with a red beard? They wouldn't let us visit you often; we got reports from the proctors and examinations, but we all, especially Dr. Myers and Professor Killey, felt you were our children."

Miles never thought Taura could look like a ingenue, smiling to twist a man's heart around her fingers; but Canaba was as smitten with love as any time he'd seen Ivan in deep infatuation. This was what he'd hoped Taura would find from Canaba - 

"I remember some of them; it was exciting when visitors came; we'd have to do our exercise twice those days; and get examined on the tables; but we liked the attention; and we knew, somehow, that some of the visitors were - well, extra special to us."

"We wanted to be closer to you, but the development contract forbade it. The Junta that was paying for you wanted soldiers who had no outside attractions, except to them; keeping all of you isolated was planned. 

It didn't work - All of us could see that all of you felt we were something special, and you were special to us." Weddell smiled with a bitter tint in his eyes; "you were special to us; the ten of us felt you and your brothers and sisters were as much our children as if - "

The project failed; the Junta fell after reports of the project were leaked. Some of what they'd planned came to light; Bharaputra didn't care, they'd been paid the years' funds. they tried to sell the project to other countries and planets; no one wanted you, and then the lifetime limits we'd built in started to trigger."

Taura stood still and stonelike, through Canaba's confession. She felt her knees weakening as he mentioned the first of her sibling's deaths - she quickly sat, pulling one of the chairs away from the table.

This broke Weddell's concentration. "Oh, please, sit - would you like some coffee? - Admiral - or is it Auditor? Would you like some? it's a Kenyan blend, quite strong. Let me find some cups..."

Miles took this opportunity to draw a chair out from the table; "Yes, some coffee would be nice - No, no sugar, a little cream." Taura took the mug from Weddell's hand, stared at it for a moment, then pursed her lips to take a sip. 

She commented, abstractly; "I wish I had a real mouth, and real lips; it's hard to drink with this snout... did those, er, Customers ask for us to have snouts and fangs?"

Canaba sat; taking a sip; "Um, yes, the contract specified that the product - meaning you and your siblings - were to have exaggerated, animalistic features, to increase the fright you'd trigger in anyone you faced. Dr. Maddell worked hard to make a balance between the length and width of your jaw; she knew that the wrong size would make eating a problem, and would cause long term temporomandibular joint problems, as well as neck and back muscle problems. The, err, Customer wanted a larger jaw, but - they settled for a size I thought was to large." Canaba bowed a bit, in apology; "so many parts of you were set not with no thought of how it would be, as a day to day manner; they wanted huge and frightening. Most of them, when I met them, seemed small inside; full of bluster - but with deep pockets, and that's what Bharaputra cared for."

"A mishmosh of everything scary is what they wanted... making something scary to frighten off everything they were scared of.... and I'm all that's left of that."

"But you're here, and they aren't. That's a victory, a success, past anything they'd planned for you." Canaba looked pensive; "Back then, I wanted to do only my work, ignoring anything outside or away from the lab. with age; and experience, I'm now understanding the importance of morals, and ethics. I thought they prevented me form doing so many interesting and amazing things; but now, especially when I've thought of you; I understand the need for moral and ethical limits. Morals protect others from the bad decisions you make, and Ethics save you from your own mistakes. Those Generals thought that an army of super soldiers would protect them from any mistakes they'd make; they didn't think of the mistakes they were making in creating you and your siblings; I didn't see the harm I'd be causing in helping create people who were designed to be tools and ammunition. When I met Naismith, and described you to him, he said something like 'Oh, god, they're trying to remake the enlisted man'. 

They wanted something worse; they wanted people they could let die without regret or guilt... In you I see my failure - you've not died; you've become better than they were."

Miles sat silently; he was watching a man rip his heart apart to confess - apologize - pronounce his sins. Weddell had his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands; Taura was leaning in, her forehead almost touching the crown of his head. they sat without motion, until Taura turned her head; "Miles, would you give us some privacy?"

"Oh, yes, certainly." Miles rose and left the room, flicking on the 'privacy requested' light next to the door. Armsman Barker was leaning against the wall, waiting on station as Miles gently closed the conference room door.

Taura held her father's head in her hands; resting her forehead on the crown of his head. He wasn't crying; or heaving dry sobs; it was a rasp from a throat that was being forced open. He was hurting; to confess you had to remember, and the remembering of twenty five years had ripped him open.

"Daddy, please, I have something important to tell you. Something wonderful."

He barked out "What?", without raising his head. Taura released his head, and shoved his coffee cup under his face. "Take a drink, and I'll tell you."

Canaba took the mug, and slowly sat upright in his chair. He struggled to rest his face; taking several sips until he could manage a full swallow. The cooler, bitter liquid gave his something to push against; something to pull himself to the present.

"Fine, Daughter, what's this wonderful news? Is your next mission to murder that cancer Luigi B?"

"No, nothing like that. It's more personal than that.... I've met someone... someone who makes me feel fizzy and bubbly inside." Taura rolled her lips in under her teeth; admitting to herself how she felt about Roic, admitting how alive he made her feel.

Canaba looked shocked - blasted over, slammed against the wall. "You've done _WHAT!_ "

"I've found someone for me, Daddy. He's one of Mile's Armsmen, I mean Count Vorkosigan's Armsmen. his name is Roic; he's six foot five, has a great sense of humor, and... well, we really admire each other." She couldn't admit, she found, just how personally she admired Roic, not yet.

Canaba slumped back in his chair, with a mixed look of alarm and happiness; his jaw and his arm - the one with the coffee mug, were both pointed at the floor. Neither heard the spill.

Canaba blinked rapidly, put his hands on the chair arms, and pushed himself upright. The handle on the mug clicked as he shifted his hands on the armrests, pushing himself into the chair-back; trying to go past that and into the next room.


	2. Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past.

Center for Military Genotype development, Jackson's Whole, Bharaputra City.

(About a decade prior)

 

The building was five stories high, surrounding a large courtyard on three sides. The open side was extended by a tall fence to encompass over a hectare; with a mix of trees, shrubs, exercise equipment, and small pavilions, some covered, some open. Benches and chairs were scattered about; walking trails and paths looped around in an organic chaos.

Nine was resting in a covered pavilion, cooling from a hard session on parallel bars, feeling the burn in her muscles lessen when Ten looped around a large bush to find her. Ten was a bit rangier then Nine, his jaw a bit longer, but narrower than hers; a minor difference between them that made them individuals, not copies. He sat next to her, with a worried expression. "Seven ended last night. I just heard from Doctor Lanna."

"That's the second this month!" Nine gasped; "Four on the first, now Seven...what's gone wrong?!"

"Dr. Lanna was looking worried; the proctor staff was in an uproar. Seven just didn't wake up, from what I heard. She must have died in her sleep." Ten looked worried; "Why are we dying so fast - that's the fourth of us to go, this year...Something's wrong. really wrong."

Nine put her arm around Ten; he nestled his head on her shoulder. The Proctors didn't like it when they showed affection to each other; breaking them apart when they saw it; but this was different; another one of their kin was gone. Ten had been close to Seven, they had slept together in a pile when they'd only had mats and blankets at night; when Seven had hurt herself, Ten had been the first to comfort her. They smelled the same; even looked the same, in the subtle tinting of their fur. Ten had lost something with Seven's going... something that Nine could feel herself. She had been startled by Four's going; he dropped during exercise; something in his lungs had burst when he was climbing a long rope; Nine had been across the yard when he just - let go of the rope and dropped. He knew how to fall and roll, but he didn't bounce when he hit the ground. The Proctors' had rushed, trying to revive him, but the stopped and had carried him into the clinic; the rest of them had gathered at the door to listen, smell, and try to glimpse what went on inside; but the door was blocked and the shutters closed.

The Proctors told them that night, at dinner, that Four wasn't coming back, and to remember him for his strength and courage. One was trying hard to not sniffle; she and Four had been a pair; in the way they had all found partners; but the Proctor's didn't like to see them pairing up. That night, One had sneaked into Nine's corner; they had spent the night in a tussle; quietly crying and sniffling in the common pain of losing Four. Ten and Seven had been a pair, as One and Four had been; only six of them left; from the pack of Ten that had been...so many gone... so fast; so -wrongly!

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the pavilion, until the bell called them to dinner. Everyone at the table was silent; worried. The proctors didn't try to separate the pairs; One, Nine, and Ten sat together, not hungry, staring at the plates. No one ate much that night.

They all had a physical exam the next day; blood drawn, ultrasound, everything. The medics didn't say much; but they were worried; their scent was thick. After lunch, the Proctors led everyone through the usual calisthenics; manual dexterity drills, and laps around the yard; then in for a quick exam. That night, everyone mixed together in a pile, comforted by the warmth of the pack.

========

After the death of Four; everyone got several injections; they felt sick for a few days, then the normal routine was restored. Exercise in the morning, training sessions in the afternoon, time to practice and relax in the evenings. The Proctors were very diligent for a few weeks; very curious about how everyone felt; that reduced to the normal indolence of inspection that the Pack usually got. 

Nine and Ten were together in one of the remote pavilions; lessons were over for the day and everyone had scattered to their favorite places in the compound to relax before dinner. The Proctors had circulated to remind everyone to behave; Clothes stayed on, and hands didn't explore - much.

Nine and Ten hid in the shade of the pavilion; sitting on the floor nestled together, hidden from easy view. speaking softly, so the microphones didn't catch their conversation. "I think I now a way to escape." Ten whispered in Nine's ear; "The swing set frame got moved today, and now it's ten feet from the edge of the lower roof section. I think I can make a running jump from the end of the swing frame to the roof; and then get to the lowest set of windows."

Nine drew back to look at Ten's face; "And if you miss the jump; what then? The cameras will see you; and the Proctors and guards will come running. The director will be furious, I don't want to go on groats and water for a month, again." She stared in Ten's eyes, showing her caution and fear.

"If One, Three and Five will make a fight over at the far edge of the fence; the Proctors and guards will concentrate there, so I'll have be free to try and make the jump. Once I'm up, if I can find an open window I'll be inside the building, and they won't know I'm there. I can go out the same way - and then we'll know how to escape." It was a whisper in her ear - a thrill filled her, from his hands, and words. Ten took chances; tried to run faster, jump longer - he pushed the Proctors. The Proctors didn't like it, bu the Doctors and Professors encouraged him - as they encouraged all of them to push the limits of everything. Being here, together but alone, was pushing a limit....

"And if you fall and break your leg? What then?" 

"I was trying a new exercise routine - a balancing and jump sequence up high - Doctor Meyers will approve, it's not like I've not busted my legs before." Ten had spent two months with both legs, and one arm in cast; after a try at jumping onto a pavilion roof from a tree; everybody thought that was cool and daring, except the Proctors...

"Well, it might work; if you can find an open window. I've seen them cracked open; but can they open wide to let you in?"

"Only one way to find out - and I might find the kitchen.... or the pantry. Ginger Snap Cookies!" Ten knew that Nine loved her cookies...

"Well, I'll help, but you be cautious. This is a test; if they catch you, they'll weld the windows shut and then it's all over."

"I plan to be; but we've got to do something to get out of here. If one of us can get between the perimeters; then all of us can escape. That's what we want, right?"

His hands were doing more to persuade her then his words...her hands encouraged him more than her doubts.

"Well, we've got to plan our escape more than we get out the main door and run... It's a long way to anywhere from here; we can't walk into town. The Proctors will catch us before we can get five kilometers along the road. We need food, clothes, and a map of the area to know where to go. You need to find the clothes closet, and a map, or something, when you're inside."

Ten grinned - Nine had just committed to help... Ginger snap cookies were her weakness....

Ten sat up - he heard someone - no, two people - approaching. He motioned to Nine to be still; moving up to peek above the edge of the pavilion walls. He saw Doctor Canaba and Doctor Meyer slowly walking along the path that curled past the pavilion; they were deep in conversation, not looking around.

Ten gestured to Nine for her to rise and peek; in the shadowed interior of the pavilion, they were near-invisible. The approaching doctors were too deep in the discussion to notice. 

"What was the result of the autopsy?" came from Canaba.

"Inter-cranial infarction; Dorsal separation of an artery. The artery seems to have been a bit to thin; a combination of hypertension and possible tachycardia caused the rip. I warned about the hypertension; that seems to have been part of Four's demise as well. The damage from the fall hid a lot of evidence; but it seems to have started with a rupture in the inferior aorta; he lost consciousness, and fell. He broke four ribs on impact; that sliced through his lungs, dicing up everything. Nasty way to go." Dr. Meyer gestured with her cigarillo, blowing a plume of smoke.

"A forty percent loss this early looks bad; have the Junta been told?" - Canaba.

"It's included in this month's report, but the contracting agent is getting nervous. Political opposition is starting to rise against the Junta; and rumors of this project is starting to spread. With the upcoming visit by the senior staff; on their usual diplomatic tour of the nexus. What better time to stage a coup than when the chief chickens are away; when you've got a big moral issue like this project to shout about?"

"I had to approve a minor retro treatment to lower the normal systolic pressure; it's done, so the risk of more ruptures should drop." Canaba stopped for a moment, stirring the ground with his toe; "The way we designed them reminds me of the old poem 'The Parson's Shay'. He built a carriage out of the best materials, so it gave a long service, then fell to bits in one moment. That seems all to possible for these kids - systemic failures that hit in an instant. With the lifespan limits we set...if we miscalculated the length of the telomere chains - "

"Andrews and Shen have the same worry; the cellular replacement rate is higher than they planned for; part of the growth rate; I'm worried that the weakness in the arterial system is wide spread - including in the organs. The Liver and Kidneys - ruptures there would be awful." Dr. Meyer matched Canaba's little sand drawing.

"A retrovirus treatment can't assist in those organs; the kidneys are twenty percent oversize to cope with toxin elimination; the capillaries have to be thin to work. The Liver - how that evolved, and from what.... It was a trick in stopping it from metastasizing on it's own." Canaba gestured into the sky; "They don't need your skills Angie; you need to move to another project, so when this one crashes you'll be safe. Academician Taubert is starting a new project to clone a limited set of torsos; using a weird set of genes brought in privately. Not a government project; he says it's a paid in cash deal; grow four bodies; no questions, no answers, no arguments."

"He wants you?"

"He'd like to have me, but he knows I'm stuck on this for another two years; but he wants me to look over some of the gene complexes; they're unusual - quite unique, he says. The project is to get two males, two females, all with the complexes, but gene unique so they can be bred, when mature. He's worried; he said the samples were packaged like the Ceta's use... and they get tetchy if their secrets go roaming.."

" 'Tetchy' is an understatement. I've heard that they'll send commando teams to kill and burn out any lab that they think is working on things that were stolen from them. Rumor has it that Cordonna had a hostage villa cratered, about two years ago. At least the Barrayarans don't go in for that sort of scorched earth operation, as long as you don't insult their Emperor." Meyer smelled uneasy at the mention of Barrayar. Ten wondered why that was, he'd never heard of that planet.

"If the Junta falls, BP could try to sell this to them; being as militaristic and violent as they are... they might move the project there - I've heard the climate there is a lot nicer." Canaba smelled uneasy as well. The smoke from Dr. Meyer's cigarillo masked a lot of the scents from the two doctors; but fear smells sharp.

Meyer looked dour at the suggestion. "No, Barrayar won't be interested in this project; they're paranoid about anything that looks like mutation; I sat in on an interview with a techie from Escobar; she said if Barrayarans fear and hate anything, it's mutations. She said it was from all the genopoisons and radiation during their lost years. She said in their back country, kids with any type of defect were killed; sometimes by the mother herself. Nasty. I don't think I'd like living there, or want to move there."

Canaba sighed; "Well, if we're funded for another year, we keep our noses clean and continue to collect data. BP will eventually find someone else who wants to try this gimmick, or they'll sell the details to another House. As long as they don't sell to the Cetas, I'm happy." 

Dr. Meyer stubbed out her cigarillo on the trunk of the bush next to her; "At least another year, when they're fifteen, then it's out of our hands, and the Junta decides what to do. Such is the life of a research Biogeneticist on the Whole."

The two of them turned, and started walking to the main building. Ten and Nine sat silently, shocked and frightened; they looked at each other; unwilling to make a sound to break the spell of horror that was laid on their tongues.

Nine broke the silence; "We - We - didn't hear that. if they find out we did, it's over for us. We can't know what they said, oh, no." She buried her face into Ten's shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, shaking in fright, thinking about the things the two doctors had said. He pressed his snout into her hair, the top of her head; he wanted to howl - only silent tears were safe.

The dinner gong sounded; the two of them slowly walked to the cafeteria; wanting to hold hands; but they couldn't. Dinner was indigestible.


	3. Reaction, reply, and medicine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canaba retreats into technical dispassion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think I'd be creating chapters, but....

Hugh Canaba, now Vaughn Weddell, happily far removed from Jackson's Whole; hadn't had a shock of this size since he'd spilled a bottle of Hydrofloric acid on his labcoat. Taura, arriving out of nowhere, vibrantly alive - so very happy - powerfully alive - had been a shock, her words announcing she's found someone for her heart... incredibly shocking.

His mind kept flashing back to the lab compound on the Whole; how miserable she was when he'd seen her shrunk in on herself; Ten had just died, she was the last of her set. He could see how alone, lost, torn she was. Now, here on Barrayar, she was electrically alive - wonderfully alive and fresh.

"Would you say that again, Taura? I'm not sure I heard you clearly."

"I said I've found a man who really excites me, his name is Roic, and he's one of the Vorkosigan Armsmen. He's big, and tall, and handsome, and he smell great, and he makes me fizz inside." Taura softened a bit to Hugh's eyes; 'Kittenish' was an exact description. "He likes me, and, well; we fit together just right."

Hugh took a moment to decode that last bit. "So, he fits with what you've got?" 

"Ummm... Yes. quite nicely. several times so far."

-

Hugh Canaba, former Genetic designer at Bharaputra Biological Resource Development, shut his eyes for a moment. He recalled some of the unserious conversations that had been tossed around during the planning phases of the project... a warning from Professor Aikins that ' Young Love finds a Way'; "Ahhh... I need more coffee for this. Excuse me."

Canaba had started a new pot after filling his guest's mugs; he, on automatic, wiped his mug out, filled it, then grabbed the bottle of brandy. he poured a healthy slug, took a large swallow, and sat back down. 

"Everything fit between the two of you? We tried hard to keep all of you from that sort of experimentation at the center; not that Three and Two didn't make an attempt..."

"Ah, you didn't know about a lot of the things we did when no one was looking."

"That's usually the way it is... But why are you telling me? Do you want my permission on something?"

"Ah - can I get pregnant?" I'm a girl, and that's a natural part of doing it.."

Canaba sat back in his chair, looking deep in his coffee mug. 

"You were designed to be capable of gestation, but not in the normal course of your life. The Junta wanted to control your reproduction; so new soldiers would be easily created;" Taura was leaning forward; ears pitched forward; Canaba continued, looking into the coffee, detached, reciting from a distantly written report. "The subjects of the project were to stay in their adolescent state until adult maturity would be triggered by a set of hormone treatments to complete maturity; including the maturity of all secondary sex organs. Males would need special restraints, as the increased testosterone levels would probably cause them to become irrationally aggressive; Females would undergo the maturity of their ovaries, Fallopian tubes, and uterus; with all the usual physical cycles that a fertile female endures. Full fertility would be possible only after the treatments are completed; and the condition will require continuing doses of sex hormones to maintain the adult situation."

Cababa took a deep swig of his coffee. "That was from the final design specifications for you; They wanted you to stay a teenager for as long as possible, and would allow you to breed only when they wanted you to mate. The males would get extra doses of testosterone to increase their aggression before any combat activity, then the survivors - if any - would revert to a more passive state once the hormone dose was ended. They wanted to control you as thoroughly as they could; for as long as they could, in as many way as they could. Only the few that survived many fights would be allowed to breed - as a retirement present, in a toxic way." 

"I had ...thought that was what they wanted; I've had conversations with lots of people who had heard of other attempts to make super soldiers; or really knew military theory; it was one of the things we discussed." She seemed to shrink in her chair, gripping the arms, nails denting the plastic armrests. "Does that a mean I can't get pregnant?"

"No, it means it'll take a lot of medical help to get you ready for that. You've never had a period - menses - have you? The way other women have had?"

"No, but most of the women in the Dendari are on birth control, so they can't get pregnant. Even Admiral Quin. The medics track all the women to keep them healthy; Fleet rules say you have to stand down from combat ops for a year after your baby is born, and the father has to agree when you go back on live status. Most women retire, get married, and hop off at the next station when they decide to have a baby. We have a big party when that happens; and they send baby stills back to us."

"So, I could get pregnant?"

"Ah - yes, but it'd be a hard thing to do, given your age, and many other factors." Canaba was getting a headache; no conversation he'd ever thought he'd have was even close to this...

"Do you want a child? From this Roic? or someone else? Your genome wasn't designed to be really compatible with ordinary humans, so it's doubtful that your egg and his sperm would produce a viable fetus. It could be done, but it would be close to what a Herm and a regular human must to to have a child. Add to that your age - you don't have many years left; any child from you would be orphaned quickly. and where would the child live? In the middle of a mercenary fleet is not ideal; on a large station, like Pol or Vervain; with the right foster parents; perhaps. Certainly not on Barrayar!"


	4. Suggestions, Decisions and Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Hugh Canaba gives the bride away, metaphorically.

"So, I could have babies, with the right medical help; right?" said Taura.

Taura was staring at him with hunger in her eyes, a disturbing situation, given her (designed) features. Hugh, in non-scientific matters, had never been a fast thinker when pressed; panicked, he blurted the first thought that came to his tongue.

"Well, yes, but it wasn't planned to be easy, to prevent 'accidental' pregnancies in the field. The Junta intended to breed only the survivors, in an attempt to 'evolve' their made to order army, or to see it die off once they were finished with it. They didn't plan on paying pensions to any survivors... very parsimonious, they were."

"But, your best possibility for having children would be to go to the obstetricians on Beta Colony who serve the Herm population. They can extract one of your immature ovaries, mature it, harvest eggs, and perhaps, do a bit of gene editing to remove the lifespan limitations we put in. then, a bit of their usual jiggery-pokery with sperm, and they should produce an embryo for a Uterine Replicator. They have to do most of this to allow Herms and regular humans to breed; it's a well understood process. It could be done on Jackson's Whole; but going there I don't recommend for anyone. Bharaputra should still have all the development notes; not that I'd ask them for anything. The Cetagandans can do this also, but..."

They sat still, looking at each other, saying everything with their eyes. Taura sniffed after a minute, relaxing as she realized the consequences on Hugh's words.

"I might start them, but I won't live to see them grow... I've only got six, seven years more." She said this in a dull, solid tone. "They'd never see me as their mother, would they?"

""It's doubtful... I'm amazed you've lived this long, but I think you've got less than a decade left. You and Ten were set for the longest lifetimes; and you remember how he decided to go - and how fast your siblings went, when their metabolisms stopped. 

But, you'd have a few years, if you choose, to have your babies with you; have them as your family, your future. It'd be the ultimate 'Fuck You' to those morons who planned on letting you die when they were done with you. You'd probably want to leave the Fleet, and stay on Beta, or somewhere accommodating, to raise your children. There aren't many planets or colonies that would easily accept you, or your kids; that needs to be as planned as all the rest."

"But I can, I mean, have children? Maybe not the old fashion way, but they'd be mine, and, err, whoever provided the sperm?" 

"Ask Lord Vorkosigan if he considers his children from replicators his - if the Barrayarans do, as backwards as they usually are, you can also. I think it's the finest thing you can do; to really beat those bastards at their own game. 

Something else - a thought - you don't have to have all of your offspring from the same man; you could have one from this Roic, one from Lord Vorkosigan, and with a little more gene editing, from a woman. Buried deep in some archive freezer on the Whole is probably sample of your siblings; I doubt that Baraphutra has destroyed them; You could generate embryos from all of your siblings, if you could get those samples."

At this Taura sat upright , "I could do what? My babies could be from - "

"Yes; if you could get those samples. I don't think Baraphutra would sell them cheaply, or willingly, but it would be possible. In some ways it would be easier, as your genomes are already matched; a bit of editing to remove the lifespan limits, and tone down the metabolism, and you could have a child from Six, or Ten, or Two."

Taura sat still, with her eyes closed; imagining... a future. slowly, tears squeezed out, her breath held to a slow cycle. Canaba rose and walked to her, to cup her face in his hands. "Dear; I hope you succeed, my child." He kissed the top of her hear, and rested his forehead on the crown of her head.


	5. Renewal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thing have started...

Once Lord Auditor Vorkosigan and Taura had left, Canaba filled his mug with brandy, and sat silently for half an hour. He looked at the bottle, it was empty; ending that excuse for inactivity.

He called his secretary; "Karla? Please call Admiral Karabad and tell him I've just been put on a special project by Lord Auditor Miles Vorkosigan, so I won't have the enzyme chains ready for him in full for several days. Take today's recording, edit it up to the point the Auditor arrives, and send it to the Admiral. His people can start work on what I mapped out; that'll keep them busy for a week or so. 

Put the recording after the auditor arrives under my personal lock. I'll be in the archives for a day or so; researching what the Auditor wants. Hold all my appointments until next Monday. 

Call housekeeping, some coffee was spilled in the conference room; they'll need to treat the carpet. Got that? Release the room for the rest of the week, I won't be using it. Right now, I'm going home; if someone wants me, take a note and tell them I'm on Auditors' business.

Got all that?

Good; Call the Archives and tell them I'll be there early tomorrow; I need to look into some of my earliest files. Most of them are under serious lock; have them call the Auditor to get them unsealed.

Ok, have a nice weekend; tell the lab staff to keep working on their current synthesis; I'll be in late Thursday to review their progress.

Thanks." 

====================

Taura was quiet on the way back to Vorkosigan house; she sat looking out the canopy, leaning on the side of the bench seat. Miles had tried to start a conversation; her empty replies had stymied him. As they crossed the Star Bridge, Taura suddenly said "Stop"; Miles signaled to the Armsman driving to pull to the side and wait at the curb. The traffic wasn't to heavy; the other cars slid around the huge size of the groundcar without to much trouble. She hit the canopy release, and stepped out to stand next to the bridge railing.

The trailing Impsec stopped some distance back, to block the lane, the lead car pulled to the curb and the two officers stepped out as perimeter guards. Miles slid out, and went to stand beside Taura in the evening dimness. The lights of the city were twinkling in the slight mist rising from the river, making the air dense.

Taura leaned against the stonework of the bridge; looking upstream into the mist. Miles stood next to her, silent.

"Do you know how my last sibling died?" Taura asked suddenly.

"I thought all of your siblings died when their bodies gave out; the lifetime limits did them in."

"Not Ten; he'd thought of escaping and running away. He was going to take me, and live in the wild spaces on the Whole, until we could find a House to take us in. It was his dream, to escape and be his own - person."

Taura sighed.

"When the news came down that the project was ending, They tried to sell the project to some other house; but there were no takers. They didn't want to sell us to Ryoval - nobody wanted to do business with him, he was to crazy and unstable. Ten and I heard rumors, finally, that Ryoval was the only bidder, just for us, not the project. Ten made a break for it - onto the top of the building, then down a stair to let me out. He was inside the building when the alarm sounded. The guards rushed him, he broke free, got to the top of the building."

"He jumped, just as a nerve disruptor shot hit him. He landed on the outside of the building; I couldn't see anything. Dr. Canaba came to me in the courtyard, with a blanket. When I got inside he dosed me with something; I went to sleep. 

When I woke up, I was in the infirmary; Canaba was injecting me with something - a long needle, not a hypo-spray. He told me he thought Fell would buy me; as an example of what could be bought from the Whole. Then he left; it was me and a few proctors to occupy the facility. Canaba left, saying he'd find me later... but... then they dosed me, and I woke up in Ryoval's whorehouse.

You know the rest."

"Is that what you and Dr. Weddell spoke about?"

"No, That's my past. He told me I might have a future; the real future of everybody normal." Taura looked down at Miles. "I need to talk with your fiance and Roic first."


	6. Effervescence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taura makes her future.

Major Sergeant Taura Dendarii, Dendarii Fleet corporation Stockholder, Member of the Operations and Logistics boards, stood watching Barrayar slowly draw away as the Peregrine broke orbit and began the long passage to the only useful jump point in the system. She had said her goodbyes to everyone she'd met; Miles and Ivan and Simon among the old, and Roic, Ekaterine, Lady Alys, Armsman Pym and his wife, and Emperor Gregor among the new. 

She knew she'd never see most of them again; the Dendarii didn't stay long in Barrayaran space, even in Komarr orbitals. The money was in other systems, far away, where the rules were thin, and risk brought rewards. In the ship's medical freezer was her greatest risk; she'd never see it finished.

A page came thru her squeeler; "Captain Bozier requests your attendance'; it was a canned message, flat and thick. She turned from the viewport, heading upship and spinward to the Captains' office.

The hatch to Boziers's office was open she tapped on the frame to signal her arrival. Bozier waved her in, Taura closed the hatch for privacy.

"Welcome back, Sargent; you look like you had a heck of a time on shore leave; The rest of the crew seemed to enjoy themselves. Darn shame we can come here more often; I think this is the best shore leave port anywhere for us." He waved at Taura to take a chair. "There'll be a general briefing on our next contract proposal in 27 hours, just got handed it today as I was finishing the last bit of business. It's not a Barrayaran contract; this came from one of the Komarr syndicates."

"Glad to hear it, sir. I wanted to inform you I'd be asking Admiral Quinn for an interview, when the fleet reforms. Also, I'll be needing extra leave time, the next time we hit Beta. And please tell Shareholder Services I may be cashing in my shares, probably with a year. I expect I'll be retiring within a year, maybe two, Sir".

Taura stood straight and tall with those sentences; looking at the far bulkhead, not at the Captain. Captain Bozier leaned back in his chair, mouth open in astonishment.

"What? You're leaving us? I mean, you're retiring?"

"Well, yes sir. I'm starting a new career."

"What?"

"Mother."

**Author's Note:**

> It's finished. 
> 
> My natural laziness led me to the best possible conclusion.
> 
> Enjoy!


End file.
